


a knife in the ocean

by sobraniee



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jealousy, M/M, Mild Smut, Praise Kink, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:15:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29678970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sobraniee/pseuds/sobraniee
Summary: Charles knew betrayal. The images of him and Sebastian on the podium, their distracting rituals before a race, Seb's encouraging words whenever he made a mistake or was too hard on himself – they were all in vain. They didn’t feel like his anymore, not when he saw Seb place the same hand that caressed his cheeks after an exhausting race – the same hand that touched him between his thighs knowing just how much pressure to add to drive Charles mad – planted on none other than Max Verstappen’s shoulder.or: Sebastian retires and becomes a senior advisor for Red Bull Racing. Charles sees red.
Relationships: Charles Leclerc & Sebastian Vettel, Charles Leclerc/Sebastian Vettel
Comments: 8
Kudos: 90





	a knife in the ocean

**Author's Note:**

> **tw: mentions of self-inflicted injuries and blood**
> 
> title inspired by the song: a knife in the ocean - foals
> 
> _a massive thank you to[anthonyjanthony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthonyjanthony/profile) for beta-reading my work and just genuinely being a lovely and encouraging person! ♡_

Charles knew betrayal. The images of him and Sebastian on the podium, their distracting rituals before a race, Seb's encouraging words whenever he made a mistake or was too hard on himself – they were all in vain. They didn’t feel like  _ his _ anymore, not when he saw Seb place the same hand that caressed his cheeks after an exhausting race – the same hand that touched him between his thighs knowing just how much pressure to add to drive Charles mad – planted on none other than Max Verstappen’s shoulder. It felt like a punch to the stomach. 

Charles knew rage. He thought that the sudden outbursts and anger that occasionally threatened to rise in his chest was manageable, but knowing that he was powerless against Sebastian’s decision to be a senior advisor for Red Bull made the Monegasque see red. All the progress lost in a matter of days.

Charles knew possession. He was always possessive over Sebastian. Charles knew he wasn’t known for being the most cunning, but he was certain, so certain, that Sebastian felt the same way about him.

_ “You’re mine, Charles.” _ Memories of his words now stung like salt being poured into an open wound. 

_ Lies.  _

Images of Max and Sebastian laughing in the garage, Max playfully nudging him with his hips or elbow – They all made Charles want to soak Sebastian’s clothes in gasoline and light them on fire. 

_ Let Max burn in the fire too. _ The thought made Charles’s lips twitch. 

Charles stared. He’d often find himself leaned against the pit wall, imagining daggers in the back of his competition, or when he was feeling especially vicious, he’d imagine some in Seb’s too. It was easier to hide his anger in public, the little red crescents on his palms not very noticeable but still doing the work to calm himself down just enough. It was when he was left alone where most of the damage was done.

It started with burning hot showers, trying to wash away the sense of neglect and disgust that crept up his neck whenever he laid eyes on them. Sometimes it was ice-cold water, to numb out his raging and gut-wrenching thoughts. But sometimes, especially when Max won a podium and Sebastian would put his arms around him and pull the Dutch in for a long and tender hug, Charles couldn’t contain himself anymore. 

Punching the white marble bathroom tiles until they were covered with splurts of red felt right. Sometimes it would take hours before Charles broke down in tears, sliding down the wall, burying his head between his thighs and silently begging himself to wake up. 

Charles was on thin ice. The mental list of comparisons between himself and Verstappen was occupying every minute of his time. Charles wasn’t a very confident person, but he felt  _ pretty _ when he was with Seb. He felt admired, worthy, and sometimes even  _ loved _ . Without that, all he had was emptiness. His feelings were broken memories floating through his brain on sleepless nights when he’d replay their final night together, right before Sebastian retired.

Of course, Sebastian wasn’t ignoring him, sometimes when they brushed past each other in the motor homes he’d ask Charles how he was doing, occasionally trying to joke around in front of the Sky tv hosts. He’d even pull him in for a hug for which Charles should’ve been grateful, grateful that Sebastian was still noticing him and offering crumbs of attention, but Charles hissed whenever he was near the older. He almost sneered at the touches, their meaning not worth anything anymore. He’d peel himself out of the embrace, take steps back, answer short and abruptly, and sometimes when he was feeling particularly salty he’d joke about Max, making small remarks about his looks or his driving style that had Seb’s eyes twitching and put on a pressed smile for the camera. 

Charles always had to suppress a smile at that even though it followed with a feeling of boiling water entering his veins. He remembered that face of disappointment and contempt well enough. But Charles knew that Sebastian was angry with him because he was talking bad about Max. It felt right to say those things. It felt satisfying. 

Ignoring Sebastian’s messages was another form of torture for Charles. He desperately wanted to answer when the first:

_ are you okay? _

hit him. 

  
Seb’s Charles would’ve answered right away – would’ve requested his hotel room number so he could come over and cuddle up with Seb, all hard feelings immediately forgotten. 

  
_ what has gotten into you?  _

_  
_ But Charles wasn’t Seb’s anymore, so he ignored them. Charles stretched his hands to inspect the newest additions of wounds on his knuckles. They stared back at him, angry and red, the faint purple rings around each one serving as a reminder of his earlier outbursts. Charles didn’t flinch when his salty tears dropped into the open wound. The pain felt right. Deserved. 

Bahrain race weekend was coming to an end and Charles felt empty when he looked at the drivers’ standings. George’s lead came by no surprise, of course. He was, however, haunted by the three-letter name that was staring at him on P2. Charles’ name glared back underneath.

Charles sighed to himself as he walked to his hotel room after their post-race briefings. The questions on Charles’ undereye circles and knuckles were always hanging loosely around the air yet no one dared to ask, maybe because they all knew the answer. 

Charles dragged himself to the door of his room, his body heavy and exhausted, head spinning, legs trembling and lips bitten raw. 

“ Mais j'en ai ras le cul avec ce putain de  _ Max Verstappen.”  _

Rage erupted in his chest again as he opened his hotel room door.

“Charles,” the voice hit him before he was able to see him, shaking him to the core. Sebastian was seated on his bed, his elbows propped on his legs, playing with the hotel key card between his slender fingers.

Charles blinked, scrunching his eyes together and opening them again to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. Maybe he forgot to drink water during the race, maybe he passed out. 

“Charles,” Sebastian’s voice grounded him to the present again as the older straightened to fully look at Charles. Charles was glued to the spot, his hands balled into tight fists in his pockets, freshly healed gashes pounding dangerously against his stretched skin. 

Sebastian’s eyes looked– disappointed? Charles didn’t know how to describe them. He didn’t have the energy for it. He only knew that they would haunt him for many days. Charles realised that he had to answer. Sebastian shaking his head slowly as to signal that it’s his time to speak. 

Charles gulped. “What do you want?” His voice didn’t sound as venomous as he would’ve liked. 

Sebastian flinched. “What do I want?” he asked back mockingly as he eyed the younger up and down. “Charles, have you  _ seen _ yourself?” 

Charles smiled, the concerned sound of Seb’s voice making his head spin. 

“I just raced,” he stated matter-of-factly, shrugging as he walked towards the minibar to get himself some water. 

He felt Sebastian’s eyes bore into his back and Charles vibrated. He was scared of the emotions he was feeling. Anger, betrayal, disgust and yearning hit him all at once. The air in the room was already starting to shift and Charles was asking himself if he would dare to punch Seb. The thought made him nauseous. Maybe he’d just tell him to leave, and throw out the sheets or request a new room. He couldn’t stay in this one anymore.

Charles turned around, finishing his water and ready to tell Sebastian to fuck off when Seb suddenly stood up and tore the bottle out of his hands.

“What–”

“Your  _ hands _ ,” Sebastian interrupted.

Seb was holding Charles’ wrists, the grip strong enough to withstand a protest. When Charles detected the hurt in Sebastian’s eyes he had to divert his gaze, instead looking down at his hands.

“First-aid kit?” Seb’s voice was hoarse and if Charles wasn’t so shaken he would’ve thought that he saw tears in his eyes. 

“Bathroom,” Charles whispered and Sebastian let go of Charles’s wrists to retrieve the things he was looking for. Charles’ own eyes were starting to fill with tears and his chest hurt. He couldn’t move. His cheeks felt hot from embarrassment. The thought of kicking Sebastian out was long forgotten. 

He heard Seb shuffle around in the bathroom and looked up when he entered the bedroom again. 

“Sit down,” Sebastian instructed him, nodding towards the bed. Charles’ body moved on its own accord. He was scared to talk. 

Charles observed as Seb carefully cleaned his wounds with disinfectant, being overly gentle in his touches. Charles couldn’t stop thinking about how to scrub away the feeling later, overwhelmed by the intimacy of it all. 

It has been a long time since Charles was this close to Sebastian. His smell didn’t change, the awful familiarity making his lungs hurt whenever he breathed in. Seb was concentrating, but his brows were knitted. 

“What were you thinking?” Seb finally hissed, not looking up. “How could you do this to yourself?” 

Charles wanted to snatch away his hands at the tone, but Seb's hold was stronger. So instead he scoffed. 

“No. No, you don’t get to be mad right now,” His voice was shaking and so were his hands. Sebastian's grip didn’t loosen.

“Then  _ talk _ to me, Charles,” Seb's voice was dangerously low and Charles' jaw clenched. 

He breathed in through his nose and out of his mouth, counting to five in his head, trying to fight the urge to run. 

“Are you fucking that  _ slut _ Verstappen?” He made sure to make it sound as venomous as possible this time. 

Sebastian looked like he was slapped in the face, his grip finally slacking, letting Charles’ hands fall into his lap. Charles bit his lips, ready to be slapped or in the worst case, walked out on. 

“No Charles, I’m not  _ fucking _ Max,” Sebastian sounded like he was scolding a child and Charles was seething. 

“Liar,” he abruptly spat out. 

Sebastian looked at him, and Charles hated him for seeing care and solicitude in his eyes.

“You know I’m not.”

Sebastian slowly took Charles’ shaking hands in his, carefully putting on bandages over each hand as Charles suppressed the urge to scream and cry. His facade was crumbling with every gentle touch. 

When Seb raised the patched up hands to his lips and left feathery soft kisses on each knuckle Charles finally let out a high pitched sob. 

“Stop it,” Charles’ voice was a mere whisper as the tears spilled out of him. “Please.”

“I'm here,” Sebastian gently wiped away some tears off of the younger’s cheek, the touch burning on his skin. 

“Not anymore,” Charles almost wished Sebastian didn’t hear him. 

“Charles,” hearing his name spoken with care, made him hiccup. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Charles hated that he was so weak. Hated himself for breaking down like that. But there was something so comforting in the way Seb's shirt pressed against his cheek as his tears rolled down his face. Sebastian held the younger one tight in his arms, rubbing soothing circles around his back, waiting patiently for him to calm down. Charles was like a broken vase, the pieces finally being able to hit the hard floor and crack and bust. 

“It was never this bad before,” Sebastian whispered against Charles’ hair.

Charles couldn’t answer, he didn’t wanna mention  _ his _ name again. 

“This started when I,” Seb paused, trying to find the right words, “joined Red Bull?”

Charles stiffed and nodded, his face rubbing against the soft material of the older’s shirt. Seb sighed, a hand finding its way into Charles’ damp hair caressing softly.

“I’m sorry, Charles.” it sounded heart-wrenching and wrong in Charles’ ears. 

“You didn’t know.”

“I should've suspected it though,” Seb huffed. “Why didn’t you answer my messages?”

Charles instinctively wanted to ball his hands together, stopped by the neatly wrapped bandages around them. 

“I was,” Charles tried to take a deep breath. “So angry.” 

“Angry with me.” 

“Angry about everything.” Charles’ voice was muffled against Sebastian’s chest. 

“I can't stop imagining  _ him _ with you. I thought what we had was nothing,” Charles shuddered, his voice shaking. “I thought I wasn't good enough for you, but  _ he _ is.”

Sebastian gently pushed Charles back to look at him, the boy in his arms looked awfully tired. His eyes puffy, red from crying, and his skin was even paler than usual. It was still  _ his _ Charles though. 

“You  _ are _ good,” Sebastian said and watched as the words poured over Charles, making the younger close his eyes in defeat.

“There wasn’t a moment where I didn’t think about you, Charles.” 

Charles didn’t move, fresh tears threatening to spill out again, his lips trembling. The silence around them grew longer, Charles’ uneven breaths drowned out everything else.

“Can I kiss you?” the words rang in Charles’ ears, making him remember the countless times he’d be the one to ask for that. He slowly opened his eyes again, Sebastian’s warm gaze greeting him. 

“Please.” 

Charles’ eyes fluttered closed again as Sebastian’s soft fingertips brushed against his neck. The familiar warmth spread through his chest when he felt the bed dip underneath him as Sebastian slowly leaned forward. It should’ve counted as their first kiss. Short and tender. Sebastian’s touches were gentle and soft as though he was scared of breaking Charles. Charles clung to Sebastian’s back, the bandages stretching over his skin. He felt fragile in Sebastian’s hands. 

Sebastian slowly leaned back, waiting for the Monegasque to open his eyes. 

Charles gave him a dazed smile, eyes hooded. 

“You look tired,” Sebastian whispered, his voice sounded concerned again. Charles felt vibrant though. “It was a long day. Do you want to lie down?” 

Charles nodded, sitting back to take off his clothes, the sense of familiarity overwhelming him again. He looked back at Sebastian who was staring at him, his gaze unreadable. 

“What?” 

Sebastian was hesitant, making Charles think that he maybe changed his mind. Charles was starting to panic. 

“Do you want me to stay?” Sebastian whispered. 

“Yes,” Charles blurted out, grabbing Sebastian’s arm. 

“Okay.” 

Sebastian stood up, stripping himself of his clothes until he was in his boxers and his shirt just like Charles. 

Charles blushed. It wasn’t the first time that he saw Sebastian undress in front of him, but it felt more intimate than all the other times. 

They both crawled under the sheets, turning off the lights. Sebastian immediately pulled Charles to his chest before the younger could even ask. Charles let out a shaky sigh, letting the warmth of Sebastian’s body wash over him. It felt like he was coming home. 

It has been such an awful long time since Charles felt like he was able to breathe properly again, Sebastian’s smell began making him dizzy. 

Sebastian’s hands were ghosting over Charles’ arms lazily, leaving goosebumps on the younger’s skin. Charles closed his eyes, cherishing the feel. His body moved on its own when he pressed himself flush against Sebastian’s body, lips ghosting over Sebastian’s collarbone. He could hear Sebastian breathe out shakingly. 

“I missed you,” Charles mumbled against Seb’s skin, licking sheepishly over the spots he just kissed. “Is this okay?” 

“More than okay,” Sebastian’s hand moved towards Charles’ neck again, tilting his head up to kiss the younger. 

The second kiss was more hungry than the first one. Tongues messily rolling over each other, both of them not willing to break the kiss to take a breath. Charles craved this. Every cell in his body was craving Sebastian’s touch, his heat, his voice. 

“More, Sebastian,” Charles whispered against his lips, his breathing choppy. “Please.”

Sebastian’s hand moved under Charles’ shirt, lips exploring the younger's neck as he splayed his palms over Charles’ chest. Charles was sure that Sebastian could make out his embarrassingly fast heart-beat, but if he did, he didn’t mention it. 

Charles’ hands were throbbing from clutching Sebastian’s shirt, tugging at the fabric to make Sebastian take it off. He needed to feel him properly. 

Sebastian understood, leaning away to slip out of his shirt, carelessly throwing it away and turning to watch Charles mirroring his actions. Sebastian snorted, Charles looked so tired, yet he was so eager to be with Sebastian. He was still his outrageous Charles.

Sebastian pressed Charles against the mattress as he hovered over him, propped up on forearms. They drank each other in with their eyes. Charles’ gaze was scorching, pupils darting from lips and eyes, matching his uneven breaths. 

“You’re perfect,” Sebastian whispered as he caught Charles’ lips again, licking along Charles’ bottom lip. He pulled back before Charles could deepen the kiss further, making him huff out in frustration and arch his back. 

“Please, Seb.” 

Sebastian’s hand slowly moved down Charles' chest, stroking gently against each nipple before moving down further. Charles buried his hands in Seb’s hair, eyes closing again as he tried to brace himself for the impending touch. 

“There is no one else, Charles.”

Before Charles was able to register the words, Sebastian moved inside Charles’ boxers, languidly giving his hard cock a stroke. Charles was still caught off guard, moaning because of the words or the touch – he didn’t know anymore. 

“Oh fuck,” Charles screwed his eyes shut as Sebastian continued his painfully slow rhythm, occasionally sliding his thumb around his wet head. 

“So pretty,” the words were floating in Charles’ head, pouring over his wounds like sweet honey. He was drowning in them. 

“S-Seb,” Charles' breath got caught in his throat. “I need to feel you.”

Sebastian chuckled, the breath hitting Charles’ cheek as Seb leaned back to pull Charles’ and his boxers down properly. Charles mewled when he felt Sebastian velvety skin against his. Sebastian leaned down, pressing his lips against Charles’ ear. 

“I’ll give you more next time, I promise.” 

Charles frantically nodded, hands moving from Seb’s hair to his shoulders. Another embarrassingly loud moan escaped the younger’s lips as Sebastian started to stroke both of them in his hand. 

“Look at you,” Sebastian’s breath against Charles' ear made him gasp. “Beautiful.” 

Charles felt the familiar heat pool in his abdomen, Sebastian’s words and gentle touch bringing him faster to edge than ever before. Sebastian was never this vocal. It was as if he wanted to make Charles believe them by saying them so often and lovingly. 

“You  _ are _ mine,” Sebastian pressed his lips on Charles as his orgasm hit him, jerking violently in Sebastian's hold. Charles let out a whine, Sebastian hungrily swallowing down the sounds that escaped his mouth. 

Seb let go of Charles' cock, leaning back to look down at the mess on Charles’ belly. Charles sleepily smiled up at him, eyes foggy as he cupped Sebastian’s cheek in his bandaged hand. 

“ _ Always _ ,” he breathed and Sebastian snapped, eyes screwed together as his cum splattered on Charles’ chest. 

Sebastian collapsed on the mattress next to Charles, trying to catch his breath. Before Charles could say something, he stood up to walk into the bathroom to wet a towel and gently wipe Charles’ body down. Charles was almost dozed off, grumbling when Sebastian pulled him up to put on a shirt for him. 

Sebastian threw away the towel, scooting closer to Charles as the younger turned to his side to nuzzle up against Seb’s chest. He was sighing contently. 

“I got you,” Sebastian murmured as he rubbed Charles’ back again, closing his eyes to drift away too. 

“Promise,” Charles’ voice was barely noticeable.

“I’m  _ here _ .” 

Charles was finally able to rest. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr: @[blesshimvettel](https://blesshimvettel.tumblr.com/)


End file.
